By Cosette
Date: 2 May 1999

Imagining Dennis

Who are you? 
another maniac 
requesting chat
but looking for sex
and failed to find it 
elsewhere?

Or another insomiac
addicted to the
silicon world
heaves a sigh
of frustration 
whenever disconnected?

I didn’t want to be rude
that first day because
you seemed to be nice
with that first message “Hi!”

I wasn’t regretful
you proved to be objective
subject on guitars, chords
artists and notes, got me 
typing words in reply
to your queries.

Later I found it amazing,
whenever I log in,
your nickname 
flashes online.
your message greets me
before anyone else’s.

Extra-ordinarily
coincidental perhaps?
we both like that 
Wednesday-evening
comedy sitcom 
starring “chandler”
although now you watch 
basketball games instead,
cheering for our idol
“lionheart”

but how do you move?
do you stand tall enough to play 
as power forward in your team? 
how do you really grin 
at my corny jokes?
exposing all your teeth?
or a little more than just smiling?

do you usually sit cozily, or erect?
on an easy chair
facing your computer
with a Marlboro on hand?
(menthol probably)
a mug of beer or a cup of coffee
to keep you awake?

do you usually scribble your rhymes
or write them with much care?
are you right- or left-handed?
thesaurus as reference
or just webster?

how do your eyes stare
as they wonder dreamily
underneath the blue moon 
that cold lonely night?

I have to let you know
that I admire you 
not just your eloquent use of words
(travelling across the cables 
uniting thoughts with letters
lying flat and bare
against the screen)
not just because you’re a poet
not just because you’re a songwriter
not just because you’re a guitarman.

but simply because
you’ve grown to be special
in my heart
needless to ask, you listened,
with much empathy
as my heart lamented
on the death of the characters
that played a romantic role
in my life.

am I that special?
for I know I am not
but thank you...
for the poems you dedicated to me
for those words I usually use
but you now unconsciously adopted
for the nights I disappointed you
with my absence...
wish these *hugs* were real
with my arms enveloping you
because you know i am not good
at beautiful sounding words;
but you are so far
an eight-hour drive away
in that cold city of pines.

But you have to know 
that I am afraid
now that I found myself 
chatting with only you
while hiding from others
anxiously waiting for 
your online message 
notification
who really are you?
i have bared myself to?